


Entrapta & Hordak & the Pandemic

by Giant_Neckbeard



Series: Entrapdak Drabbles and Disasters [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alien Impostor(s) (Among Us), Among Us Spoof, And Now For Something Completely Different, Double Trouble should not have access to the internet, Entrapta helps, F/F, F/M, Hordak creates the Internet, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27972260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Giant_Neckbeard/pseuds/Giant_Neckbeard
Summary: So in between sessions of raging at my writer's block and getting small amounts of sleep between 12-14 hour shifts, I banged this out.It is loosely based on the current Corvid-19 Pandemic, the Among Us craze and caffeine poisoning.This isn't tied to my main story, but I'll be bouncing between this, some other stuff and the Accidental Destruction of the Princess Alliance so I don't get bogged down on one or two scenes like I have been for the past couple of months.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra), Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Series: Entrapdak Drabbles and Disasters [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625908
Comments: 11
Kudos: 37





	1. The beginning of something traumatic ...

Apparently the mission to spread magic to the rest of the galaxy was going to take longer than expected, it seemed, as Hordak glumly trawled through the messages sent from DARLA back to Crypto-Castle, trying to find _exactly_ where it was that things had gone so utterly wrong.

The very first planet that the First Etherian Expeditionary Team had landed on had been … interesting, by all accounts, but untouched by sapient life. And because _nobody took Hordak seriously anymore_ , claiming he had become ‘whipped’, whatever that term meant, nobody had been willing to follow the protocols he’d given the team for interacting with alien worlds and life-forms.

And they’d promptly eaten a native life-form for food despite having _years_ of nutri-bars stored in DARLA, only to come down with horrible stomach cramps, literally _explosive_ diarrhoea and, according to the reports given by some very miserable F.E.E.T. members, a virulent illness.

Adora’s healing abilities as She-Ra had turned a potentially lethal xenoplague into merely a dangerous virus, but the F.E.E.T. had turned right around and gone home … and skipped quarantine courtesy of Queen Glimmer teleporting onboard, grabbing the entire crew and teleporting them right smack-dab into the middle of hundreds of very concerned people, including ambassadors and well-wishers from nearly every corner of Etheria.

The former Warlord-turned-House-Husband breathed deeply through his nose, held the air inside himself till the count of ten, and then let it out in a gusty sigh.

Now every Queendom, Nation and Outpost was infected with the damn virus, which if left untreated, could cause horrible health symptoms that could, but thus far _hadn’t_ , kill the infected if left untreated. Even with magical aid and the best medical care available, the virus could still cause respiratory, renal and heart failure if left untreated for long enough.

Mercifully, as the Clones’ alien biology rendered them both immune to and incapable of spreading the virus due to a very active immune system ( ~~Brother~~ _THAT EVIL PRICK_ had been very interested in ruling living worlds, not festering plague-houses after all), and thus the Clones, along with healers from Plumeria, Bright Moon and Mystacore, roamed across the land, enforcing the Quarantine, dealing with the sick and securing the supplies required to keep people contained in their homes and entertained.

_Imagine being so backwards, short-sighted and selfish that free health care would not be offered to the general populace…_ Hordak shuddered as he remembered other worlds that hadn’t taken global pandemics so seriously. It _had_ happened … but such species were generally too self-absorbed, stupid and short-sighted to reach the stars in the first place, and were _ironically_ quarantined to their homeworlds by the greater galactic civilisations until such time as they evolved … or destroyed themselves.

Unfortunately, Etheria was still positively primitive when it came entertaining oneself at home, and boredom and isolation began to wear away at even the most stoic of souls. Thus, Hordak had begun repurposing some of the old ships from _THAT EVIL PRICK_ ’s fleet into factories, producing data-pads in large quantities and distributing them across the planets, with some hiccups at first from the more technophobic members of the planet’s leadership, to the civilian population as a means to combat the lack of interaction.

Novels, history books and similar objects were scanned and uploaded into the globally-accessibly data-banks. The old programs the Horde used to communicate via their data-pads were introduced to the general public, and modular cameras were then produced to snap onto the data-pads to allow people to _see_ each other as well as speak to one another. When Hordak had suggested that the education of the younger members of the planet could continue via the data-pads, homework and ‘online’ classes where the tutors and teachers could still communicate with their students, the adults had been delighted.

Hordak was certain the students were not, given the flood of angry messages his inbox had been swamped by.

And yet, within a matter of weeks, Hordak found himself flush with wealth. Apparently this ‘netweb’ of his was the hottest thing to hit Etheria _ever_ , and Entrapta’s insistence he maintain sole ownership of the ‘netweb’, both intellectually and ‘physically’, had resulted in him earning commissions and awards for its ‘ground-breaking’ efforts to keep Etheria connected during these trying times.

Never before had the Warlord been so happy that Etherians had such a hard time reading his facial expressions, because he was _very_ certain a vigorous group-beating delivered by _an entire planet_ would have been his reward for uncontrollable laughter at the Etherian fascination with mere communication devices.

And yet … _they wanted more_.

As Hordak sighed, leaned back in his chair and let his ravaged body relax into the heated cushions and massage-motors, the Ex-Warlord looked around the laboratory that Entrapta had so kindly let him turn into a server hub, and thought about what he could do next to feed the insatiable lust for stimulation and entertainment the Etherians possessed, when the room shook and dust trickled from the ceiling.

Hordak was out of the chair and rushing to the lab above him before the dust had finished its journey to the floor.

“ENTRAPTA? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” Hordak roared, tearing through the twisting corridors with now instinctive grace, scrambling to the experimental propulsion lab and tearing the door out of its moorings to get to his Lab Partner, who was … pressed up against a wall alongside Kadroh, Imp and Emily, the three organic beings wearing what appeared to be very baggy radiation suits with large visors.

All of them were pitch black, however, and as they unpeeled themselves off the wall, had left … _them_ -shaped imprints of clean wall in their wake.

“Oooooh, that _hurt_ … oh! Hordak! Hello! Sorry! It looks like we’re still having trouble with the combustion process of the red fuel-gems.” Coughing, the medium-sized ash-covered _blob_ wiggled at Hordak as he stomped over and began opening the suit up, revealing a flushed and somewhat dizzy-looking Entrapta staring up at him … covered in impact-foam somehow.

“Be that as it may, are you _well_ , my Queen?” The Ex-Warlord whimpered as he trailed a taloned finger over a nasty-looking lump on the back of Entrapta’s head, eyes narrowing in alarm as he pulled the digit back and found a tiny trace of her blood on his skin.

“… I think I’m about all science’d out for a few hours. Thanks again, guys, but I think we’re going to have to take this to an external lab in the future …” The Queen of Dryl mumbled as Kadroh and Imp disrobed themselves, Imp hissing as he tossed his baggy garment away, while Kadroh nodded glumly and carefully folded up his own suit up, each of them likewise coated in the kinetic-absorbing foam that they had repurposed from the anti-crash systems of _THAT EVIL PRICK_ ’s ships.

“First, the medical station, then we are _all_ are going to take it easy for a while.” Hordak grumbled, carefully scooping Entrapta up into his arms and marching, with the other three members of their strange little family group in tow, towards the nearest medical bay.

* * *

Mercifully, the worst Entrapta had suffered was a nasty lump on the back of her head and some mild bruising, the containment field containing the worst of the explosion and the ‘all-purpose-hazard-suit’s’ in-built impact-foam dispensers dealing with the rest.

A hot shower, a glass of water with a fizzy tablet of pain-killers later and wrapped up in some of Hordak’s old clothes had apparently done wonders to perk her up.

“Entrapta … are you sure you don’t want a thermal jumpsuit instead? It would be much warmer than my garments.” The Warlord asked as he pulled a thick woollen blanket over his Queen, tucking it in around the edges in a recovered seat from a combat-ship, similar to the one Hordak used these days to deal with his own aches and pains. Self-heating, accommodating of the passenger’s weight and possessing motorized components that allowed it to stimulate muscles and compensate for G-Force pressures, the seats were their guilty little pleasure.

Someday, they would share the technology with the rest of Etheria, but for now it was _theirs_ alone.

“M’warm. And I like to borrow these.” His Queen mumbled, happily ensconced, as Hordak sighed and began to try fitting two very large and fluffy slippers onto her tiny feet, struggling to get the wiggling appendages to comply with his need to see them warm and toasty.

“Borrowing means that you will someday return them.” The Warlord pointed out, giving his Queen an exasperated look as her expression turned alarmed, before she began to find the ceiling _fascinating_. “I am running out of garments at this rate.”

“So … what’cha working on?”

“Entrapta, I will have to walk around _nude_ at this rate.”

“…That is the exact opposite of convincing me to give them back, Lab Partner.”

“ ** _Entrapta_**.”

A short argument later on the correct definition of ‘borrowing’ and a quick crash-course on the social definition of it when co-habitating with a member of the opposite sex that Hordak still wasn’t entirely sure he completely understood, and by silent agreement the two scientists had moved on to discussing the next phase of the Netweb.

Games.

Naturally, Hordak could have easily produced training simulations but he was not entirely certain a world so recently recovered from a global war, _at his hands no less_ , would appreciate military training simulations involving guns and shooting enemy forces.

They were trying to convince people to let the past go, not _relive it_.

There was also the issue that the data-pads were not intended to run such things, their processors were hardly capable of running such complex programs, but something simpler?

The problem lay in that Hordak was coming up a complete blank on the _topic_. Something mentally engaging, something that could be played with a group, either strangers or ‘friends’, something that had meaningful goals and a sense of tension to keep one focused and entertained.

The easiest way that Hordak could imagine something like that was to pit players against each other, but _how_? How to do so without making it an ‘us vs them’ scenario which would inflame tempers and poke old wounds.

“Oh! Oh oh oh! What if it is a space-training simulation? They could be running around fixing malfunctions and keeping DARLA heading towards the next planet!” His Queen helpfully burbled next to him from her own seat, hair-tendrils tapping away at several keyboards as she patched several ‘bugs’ in the code of the Netweb.

_Certain individuals_ had figured out that one could send ‘personalized’ videos to their romantic partners or spouses. _Certain individuals_ also forgot that the Netweb was accessible to _everyone_ and that if somebody got lucky and input the right connection number, they could listen in on what would otherwise be private communications. And data-pads could record.

Hordak was _entirely_ certain corn-cobs was not meant to be used as a suppository.

So new code had to be implemented to add encryption and three-part access commands to prevent future chapters of _The bored and horny Shape-Changer and the largest object they could find in their dwelling_ from becoming the most searched-for video on the Netweb. Also to _hunt down_ any further uploads of that _infernal_ video and the individuals who frantically kept re-uploading it at every possible opportunity.

“That … would work. That would work very well. But the graphical cards within the data-pads are not that advanced … perhaps a simplified visual representation …” The Warlord mumbled, looking at his Queen in gratitude, when something _dinged_ inside his head.

Those puffy outfits that completely obscured the occupant.

Exploding equipment.

DARLA.

_Space_.

And the stupidity that had allowed F.E.E.T. to bring an alien plague back to Etheria.

“My darling … how are you at drawing?”

* * *

Three days, and several versions, later, the first ‘game’ for the Netweb was released

A very childish version of DARLA, an alien world and the overgrown flagship of _THAT EVIL PRICK_ ’s invasion fleet were used as maps. The ‘sprites’ were armless little blobs with legs and vaguely rectangular face-panels. Hordak had insisted that the various types of people on Etheria be represented, and that had involved the production and introduction of modular ‘hats’ and ‘backpacks’ that could be selected to be added to the basic models, including horns, wings, tails and other biological extremities to the sprites. Entrapta, in her insatiable need for small cute things, had implemented vanity pets that followed the sprites around to further add character to the otherwise faceless avatars.

A voice-scrambling protocol was added to allow speakers to mask who they were, if personal anonymity was required, and several different options were added after Kadroh commented that the original voice sounded ‘male’. The tension came from one to three ‘saboteurs’ on the mission whose role it was to derail the mission and cause malfunctions. Entrapta had drawn the line at robots, hugging Emily and giving a tearful look at Hordak when he had suggested it. Hordak naturally did not want the Clones any further victimized by making them the enemy of the ‘Crew’. Settling on the idiocy that had resulted in the Quarantine in the first place, the two scientists had decided that it would be an infectious alien life-form taking over the crew-mates that would be the reason for the ‘saboteurs’.

And tentatively, they launched ‘Among Us’ onto the Netweb as a free game, to ‘test’ the system for future group-friendly content.

* * *

  * **PURRfect** : UwU, what’s this?
  * **ADORAble** : Catra, I love you more than life itself, _but never do that again_.
  * **Flower-Power** : Are you two just being cute, or are we talking about this ‘game’ thingy that You-Know-Who just released?”
  * **PincHER** : OMG those little bean-people are so derpy and cute! You can tell Entrapta was involved with this!
  * **PURRfect** : Shaddup, tall, blonde and sexy, you love it.
  * **TekBow** : Huh, I was wondering why those two had been so quiet lately. I’m running it through a system diagnostic now, _just in case_ , you know?
  * **ADORAble** : I will deal with you later, kitten. And Bow, I don’t think you’ll need to worry. I … kinda bribed Kadroh with peanut butter cups to keep me informed on how things were going, just in case things got a little rocky and … yeah. Hordak’s _whipped,_ and loving it.
  * **PURRfect** : OMG tell me there’s pictures!
  * **Flower-Power** : Adorrrrra! No! Let them have privacy … _then give us the pictures_.
  * **PincHER** : I’m with Perfuma here. Also, I am still finding it weird that Hordak … you know … _cuddles_. I mean he was polite enough to me when I was growing up but … _you know?_
  * **ADORAble** : I know, right!
  * **PURRfect** : I know, right!
  * **TekBow** : _Oooooooh_ , more Trooper in-jokes, I see.
  * **SparkleQueen** : Ok, sorry I’m late … _what?_
  * **PincHER** : What do you mean, what?
  * **SparkleQueen** : Hordak, former Warlord, Royal Consort to the Queen of Dryl and, as my royal treasury tells me, the _richest_ person on Etheria right now, _is making games._
  * **Flower-Power** : … Yeeeees?
  * **SparkleQueen** : Okay, everyone? Download it. Right now. We need to know if this is a plot or something.
  * **TekBow** : Sweetie, I’m still checking this thing for viruses and malicious code. Hordak _made_ the Netweb. For all we know, this thing could hypnotize people, or render us all catatonic, or make our heads explode.
  * **PURRfect** : Already downloading …
  * **PincHER** : Same! My claws are itching to play!
  * **ADORAble** : On it!
  * **Flower-Power** : I’ve had it installed for the past twenty minutes! Wait till you see the pets you can have in this game!
  * **TekBow: _God dammit_ …**



* * *

Hordak hadn’t expected _so_ many people to download Entrapta and his’s silly little distraction the instant it hit the Netweb, or to consume it so voraciously and demand _more_. Dozens of additional servers had to be built to handle the strain. Then super-clusters built in every major city to prevent the nexus points from being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of traffic. Then linking up the super-clusters to the ships still in orbit because land-lines alone simply could not handle the traffic being generated, which necessitated traveling into space in a de-armed and repurposed fighter-drone … which meant he _had_ to take Entrapta.

Close-quarters contact with an extremely happy and nearly-vibrating Entrapta in a confined area had been … _interesting_ , and was definitely a world-first for Etheria’s actions in upper orbit _._ Entrapta said they’d joined some kind of club in the process, but in truth, Hordak had been more worried about the effects of bodily fluids in the vaccum of space getting into the sensitive electronic systems.

Repurposing a handful of cargo-vessels into makeshift satellites was somewhat time consuming, but hardly difficult for two geniuses. The most annoying part of the task was removing the armored hull sections to correctly fit in broadcasting dishes to beam information back and forth between the server-clusters and program the ships’ navigation systems to retain geosynchronous orbit, but it _did_ give Hordak a chance to show Entrapta around the Carrier-Ship’s inner workings without interruption to sate her desire to _know more_ about the technology of his people, and watching her beautiful eyes light up as she realized Hordak had managed to rig up several cargo-vessels and fighter-drones to automatically follow them back to Dryl, loaded with technological samples and archived data from Horde Prime’s unencrypted data-banks, the kind that had been left open to allow the Clones access to information the insane despot had considered necessary to the day-to-day running of his Empire, had been the highlight of the trip for the Ex-Warlord.

Of course, when they arrived home …

“Brother Hordak! Brother Entrapta! We have problems!” Kadroh had yelled, running over to them the instant the cargo-vessel’s loading ramp had touched the ground.

“Oh! Did Crypto-Castle get corrupted by First One’s tech again?” The Queen of Dryl burbled happily, perched on three hair-tendrils with the rest of it, and all of her limbs, devoted to carrying the choicest pieces of tech off the cargo-ship for immediate dissection.

“N-no …” The normally-positive Clone stammered, looking slightly horrified and shooting Hordak a look of concern.

“Then _I don’t caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaare!_ ” The Queen yelled, too excited to focus as she barrelled past Kadroh, leaving the two clones alone on the landing pad, repurposed Horde Combat-Drones rolling up to begin the task of unloading the cargo-ship.

“…Brother Kadroh, I may not be ‘brother’ Entrapta, but perhaps I can help?” Hordak offered, trying to not feel … _slighted_.

“Well … yes. But I was hoping Brother Entrapta would be … oh _bother_.” The other Clone sighed and sagged heavily in place. Odd behaviour for one so enamoured with being _positive_ about everything. “Brother Hordak, I fear the little entertainment program that you both created has had some rather dire side-effects. Perhaps it would be best if I showed you.”

Concerned that, _somehow_ , the absurd inhabitants of this world had twisted his latest invention, Hordak grimly followed his ‘brother’ as they quickly marched through Crypto-Castle to Hordak’s laboratory-turned-server-hub, where several screens blazed with light.

_Recordings of this silly little game?_ Hordak blinked, watching the small, cute, colourful characters race around the maps, his eyes widening in concern as he took in the data flowing across the other screens.

“People … are watching other people play the game. That they could be playing. _For free_.” The ex-Warlord said aloud, giving his ‘brother’ a concerned look. “I am not malfunctioning, am I, Kadroh?”

“N-no, brother. As per our discussion, I have been monitoring and recording the data in regards to your ‘game’, and it appears to have spawned a social tend called ‘play throughs’, wherein a more experienced player will present a visual and audio guide for less experienced players to access to improve themselves.” Long hands winding over and over each other in nervousness, Kadroh cringed in a posture that painfully reminded Hordak of his own anxiety and frailness, prompting him to pat his ‘brother’ on the shoulder and offer what Hordak _hoped_ was a comforting smile.

“Not … necessarily a bad thing, brother. Tell me, why does this concern you so much?”

“That … it is the _people_ doing these ‘play throughs’ that concerns me, brother. And what the game has done to them.” Kadroh straightened slightly, though still appeared far too stressed for Hordak’s liking, and tapped a command into a nearby console. Speakers crackled to life, and several screens fizzed and then swapped to new loadouts.

The game, of course, but the _names_ above the little blob-like avatars.

“The She-Ra?” Hordak said aloud in concern as a bright red blob with a yellow wig and a ‘vanity pet’ version of itself with cat-eats following at her heels, raced around the map, _badly_ at that, his ears flicking out to catch the audio.

_“Hey, its yah guuuurrrrrrl, Adora, and today we’re doing a run on Main Base map with the crew … Bow, I **fucking** see you down there!”_

Hordak blinked once. Slowly. Then mourned the sad truth that alcohol did not affect his species in the same way it did Etherians.

_“Yeah, yeah, I see your little … oh good, he went to Reactor. Okay, phew, sorry, he was the Impostor last time and he nearly wiped us all out. Alright, now, today I’m gonna show you the pro-strats for Main Base map. We’re almost past the thirty second mark, so the Impostors’ kill command should be up soon, so we have **got to move**.”_

The speakers suddenly blasted “I like to move-it move-it!”, in a musical fashion, causing Hordak to flinch from the unexpected noise, before the little avatar began sprinting towards … hydroponics?

“Why on Etheria …” The ex-Warlord mumbled, concerned by both the unusual attitude of his ‘saviour’, and the fact that Adora was taking the long route to the cartoonishly-depicted hydroponics lab, completely ignoring side-passages that would have bypassed the main hallway and taken several seconds off of the trip.

_“First things first, you’ve got to stay in the main corridors. Look for the cameras that have red lights on them and stay close to them. Red lights mean somebody is on cameras, and you want them to see you doing tasks so you aren’t considered ‘Sus’._ ”

The Clones looked at each other, each raising an eyebrow in concern, before turning back to the monitors.

_“Once you get to your first task, you’ll want to make sure you’re alone in the room or have at least two other people with you. We’re stuck doing Hydroponics first but that’s a good room to start in. Hopefully we’ll …”_

Suddenly, a squeaky noise alerted both Clones and the She-Ra of an Impostor arriving, the cyan-coloured model popping up and out of the vent, the name ‘SaltyGurl’ over its head.

Once again, a curious stream of music began playing, an instrumental piece with an overly-dramatic yet cheery tone began to play as the screen changed again, flashing from a close-up of the She-Ra’s avatar’s face, to the face of ‘SaltyGurl’, then back again, flicking between them faster and faster until it snapped back to the default head-down view and the She-Ra’s red avatar bolted back the way it had come, with the cyan Impostor in close pursuit.

_“NO NO NO FUCK NO NO MERMISTA NO FUCK NAAAAAAAOH!”_ Adora squealed, zig-zagging as she ‘ran away’, only for a third player, this one using the brown model with cat-ears and tail and a red vest, came barrelling out of a side-room. “ _OH YES! Catra! Baby! Save me, take one for the tea-“_

As the She-Ra’s avatar came past the one used by his formerly-treacherous former second-in-command, the screen flashed with the ‘kill’ animation, overlaying the map and blurring it out in the background as a cartoonish ‘kill scene’ played out, Catra’a model popping open like a pez-dispenser to spear Adora’s avatar through the visor with a needle-like tongue, before the two Impostors used the /bow emote to each other, then bolted in opposite directions.

“…. ** _WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!!!_** ”

Blank-faced, Hordak cut off the recording just as the current She-Ra began a tirade, took a deep breath, then laid his head down on his forearms.

“…These are the people who _beat me_.” Hordak muttered softly, unsure if this was a moment where it was appropriate to laugh or maybe even cry.

“Yes, but it is not just the She-Ra …” Looking a little more at-ease, especially now he had the opportunity to convey his fears to the two most capable people he knew, Kadroh pulled out his data-pad and carefully offered it to Entrapta. “Bow, Mermista, Glimmer, Catra, all of them have similar online profiles and often play with each other. Perfuma and Scorpia sometimes play with them as well, but they are less … combative … about this matter.”

“The vulgarity? Or did you mean something else?”

“Perhaps … it is easier to _show_ you, Brother Hordak.”

* * *

Convincing Entrapta to put down her dissection of a spare data-core had been … difficult. And included bargaining on wearing something called a ‘Chip’en’dale’ outfit for her later. Along with requests for something called a ‘pole dance’. He was still uncertain about the ‘why’ of these requests, but it pleased Entrapta, so he was happy to comply.

He wasn’t sure what a ‘Chip’en’dale’ was, but if Entrapta wanted it, surely it couldn’t be that bad?

“Ooooh, this is such an interesting social development! Anonymity could certainly lead to a bolder, more aggressive approach, but Adora has become very exuberant and memetic. Hrmmm. Maybe because she _can’t_ hide, because of her role in the war? But that makes no sense, we included the voice synthesizer function _precisely_ to provide anonymity for players!” His adorable Queen babbled into a voice-recorder even as her hair and fingers splayed out across dozens of consoles, an equal number of screens alive with the colourful environments they had created for the game.

Across the screens, recordings of the key-members of the Princess Alliance _absolutely destroying themselves_ played out over and over. At the very least, all of them were _horrible_ liars and there was much laughter after the end of a session, which hopefully meant there was not too much in the way of hurt feelings.

“I am equally concerned about the … alterations to the recordings. I don’t think we _had_ that program launched yet.” Hordak pointed out, quickly muting a screen that had begun a chorus of air-horns. Obnoxious little things … “Perhaps this is simply how they are channelling their natural aggression and drive now that the war is over, and the quarantine is blocking other venues?”

“ _WHO THE FUCK CALLED THIS MEETING? I WAS TRYING TO SWIPE MY CARD FOR FIVE MINUTES AND I ALMOST GOT IT!”_

_“I called it because you’ve been standing at that console for FIVE MINUTES! Seriously! We’re using touch-screens, **how can you mess up the card-swipe task with a touch screen?** ”_

“…Or perhaps we really need to find a working vaccine for this virus before all traces of graceful social interaction disappears from the face of Etheria …” The Ex-Warlord muttered, ears flattening as the argument spiralled out to include nearly every player in the meeting and became, to his standards at least, far too vicious to still be defined as ‘friendly banter’.

“I mean, we have been at war for fifty years, I don’t … I mean we have depictions of social interactions before the formation of the Horde …” His Queen mumbled, happily tapping away at a console as she dissected and recorded the data before her.

“ _RED SUS!”_

_“BLUE SUS!”_

_“ **RED SUS!** ”_

_“ **BLUE SUS!** ”_

_“_ **_RED SUS!_ ** _”_

_“_ **_YOUR MOM IS SUS!_ ** _”_

“I am fairly certain that if they were not isolated, there’d be a brawl going on right now…” The Warlord winced and furled up his ears to block the screeching. The meeting ended without anyone being voted ‘off’ and kicked out the airlock, but it was obvious that battle-lines had been drawn as the players scuttled off to complete their tasks.

“… Hordak, I know it isn’t all that scientific, but should we, you know, _play_? Get into the game and try to experience what is happening directly?” Turning to look at his Queen, Hordak raised an eyebrow as Entrapta’s hair-tendrils flew across multiple consoles, pulling up half-finished programs and two … avatars? “I made them for us, but we never got the time to get into the game.”

One armless avatar, black with a red visor, a blue mohawk and a red cape that looked eerily similar to his previous armored exoskeleton. The other, very obviously based on Entrapta herself, almost entirely engulfed in purple hair with only a hint of the brown avatar underneath and the visor visible.

“Well … so long as we aren’t _cheating_ , I suppose nobody would mind.” Hordak rubbed at his chin with a long, talon-tipped finger. “If Kadroh wouldn’t mind recording the data … oh. Brother, did you also wish to …”

The two gleaming eyes and the frantic nodding were more than enough confirmation that his ‘Brother’ also wished to be involved.

“Very well. Take some time to design your own avatar, Brother Kadroh, and then we’ll begin our experiment.”


	2. Chapter 2

  * **Saltygurl** : What. Is. Taking. So. Long?
  * **PincHER** : Its an anti-cheat update. People were trying to force the game to make them Imposters all the time, so Entrapta said … a lot of things, actually, most of them flew over my head …
  * **TekBow** : Aaaaaaaaand?
  * **PincHER** : Well, Entrapta said she also wanted to take the enforced isolation of the quarantine as an opportunity to study social interaction created by the game, since it was different from normal inter-personal interactions, or at least I think she said that, but yeah, part of the update is allowing Entrapta and Hordak to monitor games on the fly and compile data.
  * **TekBow** : ….
  * **TekBow** : AND THIS DOESN’T RAISE A SINGLE RED FLAG FOR YOU?
  * **PincHER** : They said they’ll be sharing all the data with the Queendoms once they have a few weeks worth of data. Something about modifying the Netweb in the future to be more ‘civilised’ and less ‘battles of wits between mental pygmies’.
  * **PURRfect** : Anyone else wanna bet that last phrase came from tall, whipped and wifed?
  * **ADORAble** : Shaddup, you’re in no position to call anyone wifed.
  * **PURRfect** : You shut up, I wifed you first!
  * **ADORAble** : I am fairly certain I wifed _you_ first, Kitten.
  * **PURRfect** : Nuh uh, I wifed you, or do I have to bust out the _picturrrrrres?_
  * **SparkleQueen** : Please no, I am still in therapy from the last time you two screwed up your private messages and group-chatted us your ‘undercover adventures’ **.**
  * **TekBow:** No, I refuse to get sidetracked this time! Guys! Seriously! Hordak! Compiling Data! With the Whole! Freaking! World! Addicted to his game made of moving lights! That could be used to hypnotize people!
  * **SaltyGurl** : You’re just pissy they forwarded you the recording-alteration program they were planning to release, and it had more features than the one you made.
  * **TekBow** : YOU WANTED HORDAK TO BE EXECUTED FOR INVADING SALINEAS!
  * **SaltyGurl** : Yuh, and I settled for life imprisonment with Entrapta. So they can keep each other occupied and out of my life **. And Hordak can stay wifed for all time and thus be kept on a short leash.**
  * **PincHER** : Oooooh. Actually, now that they’re ‘together’ together, I wonder what their kids are gonna look like?!



_Several people are typing…_

  * **PURRfect** : AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
  * **ADORAble** : Oh, oh god, I think I just threw up in my mouth …
  * **Flower-Power** : I mean, at the risk of TMI …
  * **SaltyGurl** : Oh God, _what have I done_ … an army of little Hordaks with Entrapta’s hair and their _combined_ nerdiness!
  * **PURRfect** : **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**
  * **TekBow** : Does … do the Clones even _have_ junk? I assume that would be kind of redundant thin to code into your army of Clones?
  * **PincHER** : Technically, Hordak _does_ know how to clone things as well, so technically they don’t need junk. But yes. Clones have penises.
  * **Flower** - **Power** : Don’t ask us how we know. Also, sex-ed … we have to start teaching sex-ed in schools because _some of us_ are ashamed of our bodies. <Glares daggers at SparkleQueen>
  * **PincHER** : … I should probably ask Entrapta is she needs more lubricant. They seem to be going through a lot of it over the past few weeks!
  * **PURRfect** : ** _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA_**
  * **PincHER:** _Machine_ lubricant, Catra. For her experiments. With machines. And not Hordak’s … oh my goodness. And now I can’t unsee that in my mind’s eye.
  * **Flower-Power** : Oh, I feel a bout of creative writing coming on!
  * **ADORAble:** Kitten, _stop screaming_ , you don’t need to do that when we can read your posts!
  * **SaltyGurl:** Wait, is she doing that in-real-life as well as spamming the A key?
  * **ADORAble:** YES!
  * **TekBow:** YES!
  * **SparkleQueen:** YES! We’re two floors away and we can hear her! And these two are bad enough on date-night!
  * **TekBow:** You ever tried to have Netweb and Chill with your partner and your friends keep screaming out each other’s names over the top of the play you’re trying to watch?
  * **ADORAble:** Wait, _what_?
  * **SparkleQueen:** At least there’s some variety in the noises, unlike this constant caterwauling!
  * **PURRfect:** Okay, first? _Racist!_ Second? **_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA_**
  * **TekBow:** _Seriously!_ To. Me. We can’t just let this keep happening!
  * **SaltyGurl:** So what’s your suggestion then? We can’t violate the treaty by going in and beating up Hordak until he spills the beans, or we’re back to war again, and need I point out that the Clones are _everywhere_ now?
  * **Flower-Power** : Yes, well, they are technically immune to the virus and cannot spread it like native Etherians can, so they kind of _have to be_? Besides, they’re delightful to work with!
  * **PincHER** : Also they _love_ hugs? It is like their source of power or something, just a smile and a hug and telling them they’re doing great and they go all day unless you tell them they _have_ to stop and rest, eat with everyone and take some time to recover.
  * **TekBow** : **_NO!_** We are going to ask Hordak and Entrapta to play this game with us. I’ll be monitoring their progress, and see if the program is actually some kind of hypnotic indoctrination system or just … _entertainment_.
  * **PincHER** : …Being just a _teensy_ bit paranoid, aren’t you?
  * **TekBow** : Look, Horde Prime was _in his mind_ , completely over-riding Hordak’s will to puppet his body _._ Adora is sure she got rid of that awful monster, but she doesn’t _know_ for sure. _Hordak_ doesn’t know for sure. We still don’t know the long-term side-effects of everybody being turned into techno-zombies by Horde Primes mind-control chips. For all we know, there’s some leftover memories or coding that’s all about rebuilding the ‘Perfect Kingdom’ or whatever Horde Prime called his galaxy-spanning _slave empire_ built on **_turning everybody into mindless drones_**.



_Several people are typing…_

  * **ADORAble** : I am fairly certain I got all of Horde Prime when I used the magic of Etheria to, you know, _blast him out of Hordak’s soul_. I don’t know how else to describe an entire _being_ being torn to shreds on a spiritual level other than “Yeah, he’s gone.”
  * **SparkleQueen** : Honey, we’ve talked about this. Hordak is, disturbingly enough, the model prisoner and has complied with every single item of his ‘parole’. Hell, he even _brought my mom back_ from that knot in space-time she got stuck in just because we asked him if he had any ideas on the issue.
  * **PURRfect** : And gave us the entire schematic-thing for the Netweb’s code? Stuff? The weird stuff that makes it work? Tech is not my forte.
  * **Flower-Power** : Look, how about we do it this way. Bow monitors the information of the ‘session’ with Entrapta and her pet Warlord. We have a good game with people whom we _really_ need to have a positive working relationship with. If nothing is found, Bow accepts that Hordak is actually _not_ working to take over the population’s minds during the quarantine…
  * **PincHER** : And if Bow _does_ find something, we have concrete evidence that Hordak is violating his parole conditions, and we take the appropriate steps?
  * **TekBow** : … Which will be …?
  * **PincHER** : We tell Entrapta.
  * **Flower-Power** : We tell Entrapta.
  * **PURRfect** : We tell Entrapta.
  * **ADORAble** : We tell Entrapta.
  * **SaltyGurl** : We tell Entrapta.
  * **TekBow** : …
  * **TekBow** : _Ooof_ , we tell his wife? Ow, why not just say we’re going to castrate him and be done with it?
  * **SparkleQueen** : …



_SparkleQueen is typing…_

  * **TekBow** : Oshi oshi oshi
  * **ADORAble** : Everybody put an F in chat for Bow’s manhood …
  * **SaltyGurl** : F
  * **PincHER** : F
  * **PURRfect** : F
  * **Flower** - **Power** : F



_SparkleQueen is typing…_

* * *

“Okay, session is up and sending out the password to the others, recording programs are running … cameras are working!” Hordak leaned back in his chair to raise an eyebrow at his glorious Queen, hair wrapped around her in an almost cocoon-like structure as she waved at the camera mounted next to her screen, with several monitors before her, including one displaying … viewer messages?

 _I am not jealous other people are talking to my wife without including me in the conversation. This is normal. This is healthy. I cannot hoard my wife from the world._ Hordak repeated the mental mantra again and again before pulling back to look at his own screens and, warily, the camera mounted on his own desk. “Are you certain we need to be … broadcasting ourselves like this? I think a large portion of the planet’s population would be happy to never see my face again?”

“Its fun! And it lets people know you’re complying with the conditions of your parole! Also I want to maybe do these ‘pod-casts’ about the Netweb and our plans for it in future so … _test run!_ ” Entrapta burbled back, happily _wiggling_ in her pilot-seat. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Entrapta, we have _fifteen thousand people_ joining the stream, with more every second. And that is not including those joining the streams of the Princesses. This could snowball very easily into disaster if the others continue to use the … _terminology_ of their previous efforts.”

“We included a warning that the stream is unscripted and we can’t be held accountable for what other people say, so we’re fine!”

“ _Hmmm_.” Hordak hummed back, frowning as his ‘chat-message’ window filled up with small faces displaying various caricatures of emotions, that Entrapta had called ‘emojis’ for some reason. A short burst of text from a familiar name made his eyebrow raise again, before he leaned forwards and a small smile appeared on his face.

  * _Give ‘em hell, sir._



Hordak’s long, nimble fingers flew across a console to type a response.

  * _I will do my best, Grizzlor. How are you doing? I fear my parole prohibits me contacting my former officers directly, although I suspect a publicly-monitored chat-program is permitted._



More messages appeared, and Hordak’s eyes widened a little in surprise.

  * _Looking forwards to getting out of the domicile and stretching my legs soon, sir. Half a year of confinement with the wives has, uh, had some unexpected repercussions. Going to be a father, again, which at my age is a little concerning._
  * _I believe congratulations are in order, and if nothing else, now you have the experience, and time, to handle the responsibilities. I am not certain what I can do from Crypto Castle, but if I can assist, do not hesitate to contact either myself or Entrapta._



Hordak’s fingers flew across the console as more Ex-Horde members bombarded him with greetings, to the point he jumped in his seat when one of Entrapta’s hair-tendrils poked him in the shoulder to get his attention.

“Sorry! Just letting you know, we’ve got just a minute till the stream starts!”

It took Hordak a minute to blink and process it all. He’d spent _ten minutes_ engaged in frantic greetings with his ex-minions and barely felt the time pass.

 _Am I really so starved for contact? I have Entrapta, Kadroh, Imp and Emily_. The Warlord sighed, shook his head and tapped out a message that he would speak with the viewers later, as the computers around him _hummed_ , their systems straining as backup fans kicked in, secondary routers whirled to life, the complex network attempting to buffer against the load of _tens of thousands of people_ (I AM NOT PANICKING!) all watching the various streams all being pooled together.

“Oh, there’s the connection! Hey guys, long time no see!” His Queen yelled, waving at the camera on her desk, while across the room, Emily and Kadroh were frantically moderating the chat and balancing the systems on the fly as best they were able to. Small windows appeared on a secondary monitor to Hordak’s side, where the other ‘players’, the Princesses and their Consorts and/or partners, were waving back to Entrapta or chatting to their own viewers. “Okay, oh wow, there are _a lot of you_ tuning in to watch this! How are you enjoying the game?”

Even with his advanced bionics and centuries of experience, the flood of text was too fast for Hordak to read _every_ message, but if nothing else, the general consensus was ‘we love it’.

“I … we are planning on releasing some _other_ games in the future, we will likely need to produce something far more … technically potent to run them than the current generation of data-pads.” Hordak added softly, tapping at a console as a silent warning flashed, that somebody was attempting to ‘infiltrate’ the stream of code and information to implant … _something_. _They are trying to embed a video in the stream? Curious. Ah, Kadroh intercepted it._ “After the stream, I would appreciate some feedback on what would be preferred, genre-wise, for our next attempt.”

An even _faster_ flood of messages.

“ _Oooooooh_ , you’re talking about the model 2.3.34? Yeah, it is _amazing_ , we’re talking eight time the processing power alone …” Hordak pulled the prototype out of a drawer in his desk as Entrapta burbled about the specifications of the design, showing it to the viewers. Relatively similar in design and size to the basic tablets, Hordak displayed the physical features, including the ‘augmented reality’ function that allowed it to display a three-dimensional picture above the screen.

“We are still in the prototype stage, _but_ , I must stress that the first of these devices will be going to the medics and experts working on the vaccine. The advanced features will be more helpful to them in the field, finding a way to end the quarantine, than it will be for the rest of us.” The Ex-Warlord pointed out as his screens began to fill with demands for the release date. “Also, while I am aware that it can be frustrating to some of us with non-standard facial features, _wear your hygienic masks when leaving your dwellings_. We have received reports that some people are denying that the virus even exists, and are violating curfew to have ‘parties’. Please, even if you do not care for your own safety, do not risk the lives of others for the sake of your own gratification.”

“Yooooo, get to the lobby already!” A thin, reedy version of Catra’s voice piped up at Hordak from the speakers, and the Warlord sighed in an annoyed fashion before clicking the menu option. “Damn, you two talk more than _what the fuck?_ ”

No sooner had the personal avatars of Entrapta and himself ‘loaded’ into the lobby, than they were swarmed by other, as-yet-uncustomized avatars of the other players.

“Holy shit, look, he’s got a cape!”

“OMG, Entrapta, your hair! Is there even a Mungus under all that?”

“Hah! SpaceBat and MyHairLady, I love it!”

“Do we get those kinds of mods in the new update?”

Coughing into a fist, Hordak resisted the urge to move his avatar away from the ‘crush’ and waited as Entrapta babbled happily to her friends, knowing this was ideal for her. Social interaction without the frustrations of physical contact that her place on the spectrum made … difficult for Entrapta to handle.

Also while they were swarming his Queen, Hordak could try to claw back some mental clarity. It was _disconcerting_ to suddenly be under the eyes of the entire planet without any form of authority or infamy to force them to keep a respectful distance and tone of voice …

A warning flashed on his screen. _Somebody else is trying to infiltrate the system … Kadroh?_ Hordak flicked his eyes to his ‘brother’, who was hunched over his console, tongue poking out the side of his mouth and tapping furiously at the keyboard. _I will trust that Kadroh can intercept them. He **needs** this trust, this reinforcement._

“… And eight quick tasks, four long tasks. That should be enough for the … what did you call them? Mungus? The Mungus to have a fair chance, and the Impostors to not be overwhelming.” Entrapta was babbling happily away, and Hordak guiltily turned his attention back to the screen and eyeballed the list of ‘conditions’. _Hmm, not bad … oh. Impostors only have 50% visibility and a 20 second cooldown on their kill function. Hrmmm. There’s ways to abuse that, but I will let Entrapta handle this. I just need to … not humiliate myself. Against a team that will certainly be looking to avenge their grudges against me in-front of the entire planet. … **Hrmmmm.**_

Perhaps Hordak should have contested this idea of Entrapta’s a little more strenuously.

* * *

“Man, but this feels weird. Hordak … y’know? Going to feel really, _really_ weird about playing with the guy who basically ruled half a world and then happily got demoted to Entrapta’s Lab Assistant.” Catra snorted as her avatar rushed down to the electrical section. “Still, I can be safe, right? It’s electrical, we have 20 seconds till the kill command comes out, I’ll be fine, right?”

The chat-window flooded with negatives, but Catra scoffed. There was no way Hordak would come after her, he owed her, he _owed_ Adora, even somebody as emotionally and socially constipated as the Ex-Warlord wouldn’t possibly…

“Oh _go straight to hell_ , I have three tasks in Electrical. Okay, no, no, no, do the quick ones, get Adora to come back and guard me while I do anything left over…” The Were-Lion hissed and hunched over her keyboard, not caring she was doing the ‘wiggle dance’ in her seat, tail up in the air and body wiggling in place as her instincts kicked in. “Okay, wires, fuses and then I’ll come back for calibration. _Go go go go…_ ”

The doors hissed open and there … was Entrapta. Catra was a little miffed that Entrapta had _stolen_ the brown avatar, that was _Catra’s_ colour, but at least the derpy hairball was easily noticeable. She was bopping about at the calibration terminal, and Catra smirked.

“Hah. _Hah_. Lookit that, she’s taking the long task first, I guess just because you make something doesn’t mean you’re good at using it. Okay, so …” Sweat beaded on the Were-Lion’s forehead as she quickly set about ‘re-wiring’ and then moved to the fuse-box, her gaze flicking from the screen to the digital timer she’d set up next to the screen, grimacing as the time ticked down faster and faster. “Oh man, anyone else hate multiple tasks in electrical? Okay, Entrapta, electrical, there’s my alibi just in case the Impostors try to call me Sus … what the _actual_ fuck?”

The familiar, dreaded _hissing_ sound of the doors opening made Catra’s ears flatten as the gaudy avatar of Hordak tromped into the room … and stood right over the top of her.

“Five seconds …. Shit shit shit he’s right by the door and I can’t get past him … ah! Entrapta!” The Were-Lion adroitly moved her avatar to share the same ‘space’ as Entrapta’s and smirked victoriously. “Hah, suck it, Wife’d One! You’ve got a 50/50 chance of killing your Queen if you try to kill me no-“

The kill-scene animation music played, the screen blurring as an animation played, the model of Entrapta’s Mungus reaching out to completely engulf Catra’s own avatar in hair, then gurgled and spat out a bloody visor.

A silent and pale-faced Catra stared at the screen, mouth hanging low, as Entrapta and Hordak bowed to each other and then _both_ jumped down the nearby air-vent.

“ ** _THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?_** ”

* * *

Glimmer glared at the screen as, on one side of her, Perfuma was sorting trash out of the O2 filter, while on the other, _Hordak_ , of all people, was empting the trash.

If it wasn’t so stressful, it would be hilarious.

Scorpia had called a meeting after finding Catra’s body in electrical, and everyone had _immediately_ pointed fingers at Hordak.

“I was in Navigation downloading data. Scorpia can confirm she met me heading _towards_ electrical through the storage bay. If I had killed Catra, I would be coming the other way.” The Warlord had responded calmly in the face of a flurry of accusations. “If somebody is killed in Electrical, the only ways out are the door, and the ventilation shifts, and if I had taken the ventilation shafts, I would only been able to re-emerge in the med-bay or security, and Entrapta was in security.”

Of course, nobody had _bought it_ since Entrapta was naturally vouch for her favourite bad-boy-gone-boy-toy, but then nobody had been able to _prove it_ either, so the first Emergency Meeting had ended with nobody being vented.

Then Scorpia and Mermista had died within seconds of each other, the Scorpinoid in the reactor room, and the sea-elf in the weapons room.

“I do believe I saw Adora heading out of weapons and into the cafeteria right as I came into the room and reported the dead body.” The Warlord had said smoothly as the chat exploded into recriminations. “If she was trying to escape attention, she may have been heading towards the ventilation shaft in the cafeteria, as it would allow her to avoid the cameras in the central passageway, _which I made sure to go through,_ and escape to admin.”

“That is BULLSHIT, Admin has the most tasks, and I swear to Mara, I was nowhere near Mermista because I thought she was one of the Impostors! You killed her the moment I was leaving the room, I saw you zooming into the room!” Adora snapped back, while Glimmer kept her attention split on the chat and the conversation.

  * _Yooo, Impostors be lit this round!_
  * _Can’t believe people are getting clapped like this._
  * _Oh Mara, anyone else feel bad for them?_
  * _This is hilarious! It has been three minutes and we’ve already had three deaths!_



“Okay, stop, we’ve got no witnesses either way, and it could be either of you. And anyone else notice that Scorpia is dead too?” Perfuma cut in as Adora went off on a tangent about the unfairness of venting. “Does anyone have a location on the body?”

Tapping her mic, Glimmer said “Last time I saw PincHER, she was heading to the reactors, I saw her on the cameras when I was camping out in Security, and then Hordak called an emergency meeting.”

“Ooooh, how long was she off your screens? Twenty seconds? Thirty?” Entrapta’s scratchy voice eagerly filled the channel as, on the other side of the room, Bow cursed viciously from behind his console, still gamely trying to hack into Hordak’s servers.

“Uh, probably less than ten seconds.” The Queen of Brightmoon replied nervously.

“Oh. Oh okay, it can’t be Adora then, her kill command would still be in cooldown, and it couldn’t be Hordak, because he entered the weapon room from the south, and that’s monitored by cameras, so Glimmer would have had to have seen Hordak enter the weapon room if she was on the cameras.” A loud _hmmm_ came from Entrapta before she spoke again. “Perfuma, where were you? What room?”

“Eyh … I was in the lower engines diverting power to the upper engines …” The Queen of Plumeria stammered. “I was going to head to the upper engines but then the Emergency Meeting was called …”

“Ah- _hah_! So you vented, got past Glimmer’s cameras and killed Scorpia! Because Glimmer never saw you, and I left the lower engines to head over to electrical, since they’d just been sabotaged, _and you came from there!_ ”

“Nooooo! I wouldn’t kill Scorpia!” The Flower-Queen blubbered.

 _I have a headache_. Glimmer thought to herself as the chat imploded on itself again, with Hordak and Adora attempting to vote each other out, Entrapta _babbling_ about Perfuma’s ‘murderous streak’ and Perfuma … blubbering like a small child.

 _And yet, either one could be the killer_. Glimmer thought to herself as Perfuma appeared to ‘finish’ her task and moved towards the door …

Before Glimmer could _blink_ , the giant purple hairball that was Entrapta’s avatar came barrelling into the room and murdered Perfuma, leaving a headless body with a single cartoonish bone sticking out the end. As Glimmer’s finger moved to hit the emergency meeting icon, Hordak’s own avatar rushed her and her screen went blurry.

The next thing she knew, Hordak’s avatar had _dropped a tank_ ontop of her own avatar, and was making a bizarre “WRYYYYYY” scream, before the screen cut to black and ‘ **D E F E A T** ’ appeared in bold red letters.

“YO WHAT THE FUCK?”

“Perfuma, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t say anything or it would be cheating!”

“I FUCKING TOLD YOU IT WAS HORDAK! ME! ADORA! MEEEEEE!”

“What the hell was with those kill animations, those were _weird_!”

“ **YO, WHAT, THE, FUCK?** ”

“I do believe we have … succeeded?” Hordak sounded almost unsure as the lobby began to repopulate with the players, all of them running around and yelling at the top of their lungs. “Entrapta, where …?”

“Ooooh, I didn’t think getting information on online interpersonal relationships could be this fun! _Let’s do another!_ ”

Muting her mic for a moment and covering her mouth with a sheet of paper, having learned _painfully_ that several people she knew could read lips, Glimmer turned and gave a pleading look to her Consort, who was currently in the grips of an aneurysm right now, from the expression on his face.

“Honey? Any chance you got the data you wanted? Hordak and Entrapta just murdered us all in under five minutes …”

“ _No_! Whoever is back-hacking me is a genius! Completely off the rail and five steps ahead of whatever strategy I try! If Entrapta herself wasn’t playing, I’d say she was the one stopping me! It can’t be Kadroh, he’s too … rigid, and I don’t think anyone else in Crypto-Castle is this adept with technology!” The dusky-skinned man turned and gave his wife a despairing look. “We’re dealing with a genius, a mind honed sharper than a razor’s edge and more devious than anything I’ve ever encountered!”

* * *

“Is she … alright?” Kadroh stage-whispered to Brother Entrapta, staring at his ‘partner’ as they moderated the stream.

“Oh, she’s just having fun.” Brother Entrapta replied distractedly, as an upside-down Emily, still plugged in to several ports in the wall of servers, comically kicked her three legs in the air and _beeped_ and _booped_ happily to herself.


End file.
